5 Times the Doctor Was Jealous
by Pups Paws
Summary: Exactly what it says and one time he wasn't. Read on to find out why and with who. I'll give you a hint. If you like 10/Martha then come here.
1. William Shakespeare

**_Author's Notes: _**Right. I wrote this because I was watching the Shakespeare Code and I was wondering what the Doctor might be thinking as Will is trying to say goodbye to Martha. I might have exaggerated things a bit, but I hope it was worth it.  
It was fun to write though.

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own Doctor Who...I will some day...and that day is coming...or...I might own David Tennant...one or the other... ;

Read and review. Very much 10/Martha!

**I****:- William Shakespeare**

He walked onto the stage, pulling the helmet off, with a cow skull in one hand, a neck-brace ruffle thingy around his neck and a satisfied grin on his face.

Of course he wasn't entirely sure why he was so content, but perhaps it was because he had shown Martha his life and she hadn't rejected him for it.

Perhaps he may be able to keep her, just push it to one more trip.

She was a nice girl, very bright, very human, fast runner and he felt a little safer with a person around him versed in medicine.

You never knew when CPR are might be needed.

His eyes darted up to where Martha sat, and that contended feeling soured a bit.

Shakespeare sat with Martha; rather close to her. He seemed happy and she was smiling shyly.

A trickle of anger squeezed into the Doctor's mind and he strode up there; managing to keep smiling.

A small conversation ensued between him and Will; in which he struggle not to snap.

He had no idea why he was angry all of a sudden. It had just hit him.

As he turned and set down the helmet and the skull to pick up the Carrionite Orb, he heard Will speak softly to Martha and she giggled a little.

With a quick glance, he noticed that Will had shuffled closer to Martha and was holding both her hands with his face close to hers.

Rage suddenly burned intensely in his hearts and he fought to retrain himself from breaking them apart.

Only he could hold her hands, William Shakespeare should not have even thought about touching her.

Then, they broke apart as two of Will's actors ran in and began babbling about something or other; and the feeling of rage against the wrongful action faded.

It shocked him to realize what had happened; what that feeling was.

Envy.

He'd been jealous.

A shiver passed up and down his spine and he refrained from shaking his head.

No.

He couldn't have been.

Martha wasn't his. He wasn't interested in her in that way.

No.

Not so soon after Rose.

He couldn't be.

Martha glanced at him, catching his eyes and his thoughts.

Oh, but her eyes were so beautiful; so deep and dark and hidden. Her thoughts not telegraphed to her face, but concealed. A look of mild curiosity masked her features, not exactly caring one way or another. It took some effort not to loose himself to her beautiful eyes and her fair face.

No.

He demanded himself that he stop.

Not so soon after Rose. There would be no more like Rose.

He was not at all attracted to Martha.

And he was not at all jealous of Shakespeare.

* * *

Review! Please. But there are another 4 times that he got jealous and one time that he wasn't!

Review please.


	2. Frank

**Chapter 2!**

**Here we go, Frank, we all remember Frank from Daleks in Manhatten and Evolution of the Daleks? Yes, that Frank. Not a bad looker and I just exaggerated something he said. Read on. and Review. ****:- Frank**

II

The air was cold and the entire tunnel was wet and smelt foul. The only light that managed to find it's way down into the sewers came from the grates that were a good ten feet above their heads that hit the ground but did nothing to disperse or even bother the darkness that had always been there.

He didn't like this place, he felt cramped, like he was too tall for the tunnels, despite there being more than enough room for him to stand up straight.

This feeling of apprehension and worry sat inside him, making him just a little twitchy.

Solomon, the leader of Hoover Ville walked beside him. Martha and a young human named Frank; another of Hoover Ville's residents walked behind them.

Each held a torch which they shone ahead of them, trying to find their way to the supposed collapse for a dollar.

But, there was no sign of a collapse, which may have been what made the Doctor jumpy.

Suddenly, Frank's voice pierced the gloom, talking quietly to Martha.

It had almost been enough of a shock to make him jump, but he managed to control his nerves and keep his attention focused solely on whatever lay ahead.

He had no interest in what was said between the two.

Until Frank said it.

'_Just stick with me and you'll be alright' _

What was Frank implying.

That he couldn't protect Martha well enough, that Frank had something more than him?

Some kind of strength?!

A scowl of anger broke onto his face, hidden by the dark.

This kid; was speaking to Martha, his Martha Jones, telling her to stick with him for safety.

Not on. No.

Martha was _his_ responsibility, _he'd_ brought her here.

And no one would take her away from him, least of all some punk kid from a shanty town.

His fingers tightened around the handle of the torch, causing the old metal to creak under the pressure.

How dare Frank insinuate that!

Frank didn't even knew her, he was flirting with her because he could!

Didn't even ask if she had a boyfriend or anything, just did it!

And that made him angry.

Martha laughed lightly and brushed it off with a thanks, knowing where her cards lay. She changed the subject to something less personal and more informative.

Taking a few deep breaths, the Doctor calmed his rage and his white knuckle death grip eased somewhat.

In place of the furious thoughts in his head, now came the accusing voice, claiming upon his jealousy.

Again he denied it.

He reasoned with himself that it was not an unusual action, Martha came from Frank's future and he was her ride, she was his responsibility and he _had_ to protect her, regardless of what anyone said.

Martha was out of her time and he was the Time Lord.

Protecting her, for her family's sake and for her own good was of the utmost importance.

But her knowledge of this surprised him and impressed him.

Any other human he might have taken up this offer that Frank had put out and returned it with a sly remark, but not Martha. She smiled lightly and changed the subject, obviously aware that she couldn't get involved.

He was very impressed by her mindset.

She really was starting to grow on him.

But still….

He wasn't really attracted to Martha.

And he wasn't really jealous of Frank.


	3. Riley

**Chapter 3!**

**Riley? Yes, he's the one that was stuck in the pod with Martha. I liked him, but I wanted to know what the Doctor was thinking when Martha walked in and he had that look on his face.  
Now go and review and all that. **

**III:- Riley**

His head still ached unbearably from the sun creature's virus. His mind felt sluggish and slow.

Even the soothing hum of the TARDIS and the soft undertone of her steady breathing was not enough to quell the residual fear and concern.

The last memory he truly had, before the sun virus; was of Martha floating through space in an escape pod.

Away from him.

He remembered running to the door and peering through the view hole, listening to the calm mechanical voice elaborating on the scene before him.

'_Escape pod disengaging'_

He could see her, banging on the pod door, a look of relief on her young face as she tapped and banged, calling to him.

Staring at her through the glass view port, knowing that he could not stop the pod from releasing, worse still at the sun, filled him with so many emotions.

Fear that he had lost his Martha Jones, anger that he hadn't been able to stop it, sorrow for letting her down, uncertainty of what to do next, guilt for letting her go in the first place along with so many others.

On her first honest to Rassilion trip; he'd killed her.

Let her wander off on her own….

He couldn't let her die.

Not his Martha Jones, not his doctor or nearly-doctor.

'_I'll save you'_

'_Escape pod jettisoned' _

With a sudden shuddering motion, it was released from the ship.

Martha's beautiful eyes flooded with horror and for a moment her banging increased, hammering on the door; screaming for him.

The guilt seemed to suddenly eclipse all emotions inside him.

He'd failed her.

He hadn't protected her when she needed it.

And as her banging slowed, she realized it too.

She stopped calling his name and pressed her hands to the door.

'_I'll save you'_

But even as she drifted away, she looked forlorn.

Like she was a lost cause; that he had abandoned her.

He couldn't let her think that, no, it wasn't right.

Even if he had to jump out after her and drag that pod back with his bare hands, he would.

He wasn't going to lose her, not now.

He refused.

'_I'LL SAVE YOU'_

She said something in response, a word that he didn't understand or what to see her say.

'_Sorry'_

He shook his head violently, clearing the deep-seated images of her desperate eyes from his mind and gently pulled the scanner over to him.

It was time to move on, run from these memories of failure and pain.

A small smile graced his lips.

'_A baptism by fire'_

Pun intended.

His eyes wandered back to the scanner and his hearts literally stopped.

Martha and Riley were locked in a kiss.

His mind went blank and that now familiar feeling of a raging firestorm in the pit of his stomach came to life.

Of course he didn't know who started the kiss, but it didn't matter. All his fury was poured onto Riley.

That should be him, not that human kid. What had Riley done that he hadn't done?! Been stuck in that pod with her, probably crying his eyes out and now taking advantage of _his _Martha Jones.

His hearts were now thundering in his chest and he stared blankly at the other wall.

He was in the right frame of mind to walk out there and punch him in the jaw.

Or dump him out an airlock, shove him into some electrical wire, 'accidentally' trip him down a flight of stairs; just to get him away from Martha permanently.

No one had the right to touch her other than him; which was hardly ever and only in situations that called for it.

But that was beside the point.

The soft voice of Martha Jones spoke up beside him, that same word he didn't want to hear.

'_Sorry'_

Vaguely, he switched his gaze to her, still angry but calming.  
Those eyes looked up into his, wide and apologetic.

It was becoming more and more of a challenge not to loose his composure and throw himself at her mercy. But those eyes; oh, how could she do wrong.

Blinking, he managed to sweep aside the thoughts and change the subject.

Yet, niggling at the back of his mind was that teasing voice, berating him relentlessly for his envy; for his jealousy.

This time, he couldn't find reason to defend himself from the accusation.

They were leaving, never to return and they had been through a lot together so a small kiss on the lips wasn't anything to get worked up about.

The same confusion hit him, a feeling of insecurity and indecisiveness.

He couldn't tell one way or another about Martha any more.

And it worried him.

He wasn't sure if he was attracted to Martha.

And he wasn't sure if he was jealous of Riley.


	4. A Friend From Work

**Chapter 4! **

**I wasn't going to write this one. But 1969 was too good to pass up.  
Some drunken friend from work.  
Hell, if I was the Doctor I would have chucked a fit too!  
Anyway...review...yadda...yadda...yadda.  
And all that. **

**IV:- A friend from work**

Nearly every second of existence in 1969 was painful for the Doctor.

It was unbelievably boring; there was nothing for him to do other than experiment here and there on and with various objects, but that even lost its luster over time.

Martha however was starting to thrive.

She worked the morning and afternoon shifts at a general store, and at night went out.

Occasionally she would hesitantly ask if he wanted to join her, and every time she asked he 'begrudgingly' accepted.

In all actual fact, he wanted to see what she did, he wanted to walk with her, listen to her day and hear her voice.

It just seemed to reassure him, that familiar voice, that everything would turn out fine and at any minute the TARDIS would come to him, purring and cooing.

He wanted to prove to Martha that they weren't trapped here, just temporarily without transport.

But he was getting a little concerned about how comfortable she seemed here, he didn't want her to start a relationship with some dirt bag.

Publicly, he was protecting Martha against the pain of a broken heart.

Privately, he was protecting himself by protecting her.

He still maintained that Martha was _his_ responsibility and any harm or pain that befell her was directly his fault.

So he went with her to dance clubs, pun, theme parks, wandered the streets, parks all pretending to protect her, but secretly enjoying her company.

Martha had become a good friend, a close friend.

And it felt good to have someone he could laugh with, properly.

They lived together in a small apartment on the ground floor, with a bedroom, a bathroom complete with shower, a lounge room and a small kitchen.

It had been theirs for a month now and he had taken the lounge room as his own personal area.

It was littered with pieces of inventions and experiments he'd conducted when he was bored. He also slept on the lounge when he did sleep, and Martha slept in the bedroom.

It was a little too uncomfortable to be sleeping in the same bed, so they had separated.

It was a meager existence, but an existence nonetheless.

One particular night, the Doctor sat lazily on the lounge, his long legs splayed before him as he gazed blankly at the TV. His mind wandered, touching on thousands of subjects, idly wondering if tonight was his last night in 1969.

But a sudden noise drew him from his thoughts, causing him to stand and wander to the window to check.

It was only Martha returning home from a trip out to a dance club or something.

But someone else was with her.

Someone he didn't recognize.

This stranger's arm was slung around her shoulders, and they were talking jovially.

The Doctor's hand fisted in the curtain as he wondered apprehensively what was going on. The arm around the shoulder was a little too close to something more than friends.

The man suddenly leaned down and gave her a kiss, a passionate one.

This time it came without warning, there was no slow build of anger, just a tidal wave of fury.

The sight of the kiss gave him enough cause to break something.

He was incensed and this time there was nothing to calm him.

Turning abruptly on his heel, he ran a hands through his hair, trying to exercise a little self control.

Yet it proved to be like trying to stop a firestorm with a bucket of water.

He lost it.

And the first thing in his sights was a radio.

A swift kick followed by a roar of anger sent it flying across the room, slamming into a wall.

Just seeing someone kissing _his_ Martha Jones in such a manor soon had the radio hissing and sparking as the Sonic Screwdriver bombarded it.

All he could think of was that man, that drunken yobbo; with Martha.

It drove him mad.

She promptly walked in to find him standing in the centre of the lounge room, breathing heavily as he glared darkly at the radio with the now silent Sonic at his side.

Martha, being the girl that she was, asked what the matter was, gently resting a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched, ducking away from her touch, he was enraged and out of control and he didn't want to hurt her.

But unfortunately, she'd persisted and he snapped.

He screamed at her, ranted and raved about her idiocy and typical human urges of filth and debauchery.

She screamed at him, screeched and shrieked about his constraints and his lack of knowledge of her and his mistrust.

They screamed at each other until Martha fled in tears, screaming her final thought

'_I hate you_'

With a heavy groan, he fell back onto the lounge and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

He felt terrible for what he'd done to her.

It hadn't meant to come out like that, it hadn't meant to happen.

But he'd painted her with the same brush as all humans.

Just taken his anger out on her.

But truthfully, he couldn't blame her, he just couldn't. Martha was young, and it was indeed ingrained into human nature, that she find fun.

She was a baby compared to him, and he himself couldn't say that he didn't understand.

He had been young once and remembered doing the exact same things back on Gallifrey, in a Gallifreyean way.

His guilt was made infinitely worse when he'd heard her sobbing from the bedroom.

What had he done?

He feared that he had now ruined what he had with Martha, over some drunken friend from work and a mistake.

The anger though, was getting to be a problem; it was getting beyond his control and the notion of him being jealous of other men with Martha was fast becoming a reality.

He was jealous of the friend from work who had gotten the chance to kiss Miss Martha Jones with such unadulterated freedom and passion.

If only it could be him.

If only.

But No. He couldn't.

He was a time Lord and she was a human.

It could not end well, no matter what he did.

Yes, he wished he could be that man that could kiss Martha under his own impulse; but being a Time Lord he had no such luxury.

He was slightly attracted to Martha.

And he was slightly jealous of the drunken friend from work.


	5. Captain Jack Harkness

**Chapter 5!**

**The ulitmate threat to the Doctor's slow build of feelings!  
Captain Jack Harkness!  
Hooray!! I love Jack!! I love the Doctor!!  
But this was always the biggest hurdle.  
If Jack were flirting with me...I'd like it too!!  
Review and Jack will come to your house...and if you're extra nice...so will the Doctor. **

* * *

**V:- Captain Jack Harkness**

Things could not have been worse.

Captain Jack Harkness.

Oh Rassilion, he was suffering.

The Captain had clung to the TARDIS and was now with them, journeying over the frigid wastelands at the end of the universe.

Worse still, he was flirting with Martha and she liked it.

Had and Martha had made up long ago, so there were no ill feelings between them.

The only ill feelings was the growing resentment of Jack presence.

Jack was the ultimate threat to _his_ Martha Jones. Good looking, human, flirtatious and attracted to her.

He couldn't deny himself that Jack was all of these things, which was agony.

Yes, as a Time Lord, he was good looking, it had been a fortunate regeneration, he wasn't disputing that.

But he wasn't human and he couldn't flirt with such obvious freedom and intent as Jack could.

He wanted to with Martha, it was such a temptation.

Yet, reason led him to believe it to be foolish, to dance down a path that could only lead to heartbreak.

The phrase '_damned if he did and damned if he didn't' _seemed to fit well here.

Embracing Martha and letting her into his hearts would cause great pain as she was mortal and he was not. He had felt that pain before not too long ago and he was not so certain that he could go through it again.

But it was sheer agony to watch other men come to Martha and it drove him to the brink of insanity to watch them respond so willfully to their urges. If he did so here, if he responded to the urge he felt at that moment, he'd have Martha in his arms, staring into those eyes that were so close to her own and he would finally kiss her like he felt he should.

Martha suddenly laughed as Jack whispered in her ear.

All he could do was bite down on his lip and try to ignore it.

Of course, Martha never saw it as flirting. She never took it seriously like he did. She'd just laugh and tell them not to be stupid.

It never comforted him though.

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh as Martha told him a joke, it was the kind of laugh that was a little too loud.

The Doctor closed his eyes, walking ahead of them both, pretending not to be hurt, pretending not to be jealous.

He'd admit to it now, he couldn't not admit to it.

And it hurt, what Jack was doing, it hurt that Martha was enjoying it.

Every now and then, he'd glance at them and he'd see the spark in her eyes, the spark that spoke of affection for Jack.

And for some reason, after seeing this; the anger would not come.

It just hurt; he resented Jack for what he was doing, but it didn't anger him.

He'd lost her affection, to his close friend.

Martha Jones didn't know it, but her affection had not been unrequited.

At that moment of realization, he felt like a fool for not showing her what she meant to him.

Now he'd lost his chance.

The thought of '_dammed if he did and damned if he didn't'_ still hung fresh in his mind.

Yet he couldn't help but wish for another chance with Miss Martha Jones.

She was no longer _his_ Martha Jones.

She was _Jack's_ Martha Jones.

And it hurt.

He was indeed attracted to Martha.

And he was indeed jealous of Jack.


	6. The Doctor

**Chapter 6!**

**I bet you're confused now!!  
No, I'm serious. The Doctor.  
He is now competing with himself for her.  
Will he get Miss Martha Jones in the end?!  
Read on and Review...ENJOY!!**

**VI:- The Doctor**

The TARDIS was empty.

So big and empty and cold.

He'd never felt so alone.

Martha had left him, after the ordeal with the Master, she had run.

Run from him.

She'd tried to make it sound better, saying she had to look after her family, she couldn't leave them. But the short and tall of it was that she had run from him.

The thought still stung, it cut deep, that someone you like leaves you, runs from you and your life because you are dangerous.

Martha hadn't said it. She didn't need to. It was written so plainly in those beautiful eyes.

And he knew that no amount of groveling would remove it.

Tossing away his feelings for the moment to the best of his abilities, he managed a simple tight embrace then let her go.

But she'd kissed him as she left.

Pressed those soft lips to his cheek and left without a look back. He hadn't had time to react, he didn't know how.

If he still liked her, if was still attracted to her and she left, existence would become unbearable.

Harboring feelings that he could not express as it was too late could and would only cause pain.

He had to let them go.

He'd turned from the door, never finding it so hard to remain silent.

Letting the feelings of affection go, was not at all easy.

In the space of a moment, he'd cursed himself a thousand times. For what exactly he didn't quite know, but he deserved every curse.

The, Martha came back, suddenly in the middle of a conversation it seemed.

He'd hauled himself from his depression and gave her his full attention.

'_Cause he never looked at her twice' _

His head sank, his eyes falling to the floor.

'_I mean he liked her, but that was it'_

No, that was wrong.

No, so wrong.

But what was the point of confessing now, the pain would not be tolerable. She continued talking, her voice thick with emotion.

The urge to tell her, to give her that kiss pulled against his mind, pinning all hope on this insane thought that Martha Jones was selfish enough to put her life ahead of her family.

That was not Martha Jones.

'_So this is me…getting out_'

It came to his attention; that after all Jack had done. All the flirting and suggestive motions.

She was still _his_ Martha Jones.

'_I'm not having you disappear'_

She threw him her phone, wanting to keep in contact. At the time, he thought of it as a great idea. Martha would call him, asking to come back. He'd given himself hope.

When there was none.

Three days after she had gone, he stood rigidly at the console, his hands flat on the coral ridges. His head bowed.

Martha wasn't coming back.

Why would she?

She had a life, she could or was going to be a doctor, she could easily get a boyfriend, get married, have kids, become a grandmother, and be an ordinary human.

Why would she forsake a future of that caliber to be with some ancient alien so twisted and broken, that to him love equals pain.

If she was smart, Martha would never call the small silver phone that sat on the console before him.

And Martha was very smart.

A single, lonely tears slipped from under his closed eye lid, and tracked down his face slowly, drawing out the pain.

Nothing mattered; it was almost the same pain as before, that burning, aching feeling in his hearts that grew and grew until he was consumed.

A sudden trill drew him back to reality.

Wearily he opened his eyes and tilted his head back to observe the TARDIS.

She said nothing to him, no change in the sympathetic hum, yet the trilling continued.

He let his head drop and he gazed at the console wishing that he could be left aloe with his pain. Then, his eyes found the small silver phone; the screen a bright blue as it vibrated and shrieked desperately for the attention he craved.

His hand shot out and pressed the phone to his ear, answering the call in a split second.

Feebly he called, hoping that she would answer and not some weirdo with the wrong phone number.

But the smooth gentle, calm voice of Martha Jones melted through the speaker as she spoke to him. His 'name' had never sounded to good to him before; his knees went weak and he gripped the console tightly for support.

The next thing she said, filled his hearts with joy.

'_I need to see you…please Doctor….come'_

Strength instantly returned to his legs and he charged off around the console, pressing as many buttons as he could with one hand as he chattered excitedly down the phone line, elaborating of the simple 'yes' he would have given, saying that he was coming, dropping everything, almost there, hang on for a second, time rotor is a little slow; among other things.

Martha laughed softly and spoke gently as she usually did, not releasing any details for her sudden need to see him, but partaking in his exhilaration.

Questions were not on his mind, he simply knew that she had asked to see him and he was going to respond.

His chance had come, he had to take it.

Despite his best efforts, his affection for her was no a part of him. And as he had admitted, harboring feelings that needed to be expressed was not healthy, it only caused pain.

The Time Rotor was screaming as he pushed it to its limits.

Sparks exploded around him and the TARDIS seemed to squeal with excitement as they tumbled through the Time Vortex towards Martha Jones.

He kept the phone pressed desperately to his ear, straining to hear her over his ship, but reveling in the reality that she was calling him back to her.

Regardless of what she would say, he was going to express himself, he was going to give her that kiss that he owed her, even if there was a boyfriend.

Martha Jones deserved to know how he felt.

Then, abruptly the Rotor stopped its howling and the TARDIS gave an encouraging thrum. He dropped the phone on the console and hurtled through the doors.

He'd landed smack bang in the middle of a flat, with _his_ Martha Jones before him. She dropped the phone, her eyes wide and bright and over flowing with happiness and as beautiful as ever.

He gathered her in his long arms, hugging her tightly as if he had not seen her in years. She reciprocated this action to the best of her ability.

His hearts were hammering against his rib cage, he wasn't sure why. But he was trembling.

Martha laughed, shaking her head as she listened to his hearts and felt his trembling.

Slowly, her laughter died down but she held onto him, whispering quiet professions in his ear, things he had never heard her say.

Personal feelings to situations they'd been in, thoughts, ideas and everything between.

'_I missed you' _

He squeezed her tighter, agreeing fervently.

Slowly, they released each other, before she led him to the lounge, sitting down. He sat down by her, as close as he dared, eager to hear her speak but also eager to speak himself.

A sudden question came to his mind, one that he had skipped over but thought of slightly, but not enough.

Was there someone else? Had she gotten a boyfriend? Was she with Jack?

He had felt so brazen in the TARDIS, feeling that a boyfriend was no major problem.

But now, sitting in the reality, staring at Martha waiting to hear her speak, he didn't feel so audacious.

All confidence seemed to have left him, his mouth ran dry and his voice reduce to a whimper.

He asked, fearing the answer.

Almost immediately, she shook her head, her eyes glowing with nothing but honesty. And he believed her.

Leaning forwards slightly, he moved a little closer and raised a hand to her face, enjoying the softness of her cheek against his fingertips.

Soft dark hair brushed against the back of his hand and he gently rested his forehead against hers.

Her eyes were so big, so dark and so beautiful. Deep in the rich brown colour, he saw the spark of affection he'd seen for Jack, now for him.

He allowed himself to drown in her eyes, to feel the affection, to feel what she felt, to be a part of her.

He could see everyone of her eyelashes, long and elegant and covered with mascara. This different shades of purple eye shadow that seemed to glow and make her eyes all that more appealing.

Finally giving into the urge that he had kept for weeks, he let his eyes slip closed and pressed his lips to hers.

They were soft and warm and real as he had thought they'd be.

Almost under instinct, his hand went to her neck, his thumb rested on her cheek and he curled his free arm around his back.

His hands were lost in his hair, tangling in it, but he didn't mind in the least.

For the moment he was at ease, he felt extremely good. As good as he had since Rose.

The thought of his old companion caused pain, but that pain was swept away in the kiss.

It was only gentle and soft; an innocent kiss. Just to express his love for her.

When they pulled apart, he slowly opened his eyes to gauge her reaction.

Her eyes remained closed for a moment longer, catching her breath.

She laughed shakily, her warm damp breath curling over his cheeks.

'_How long?'_

He couldn't help but flash a cheeky little smile as her eyes opened slowly.

'_Since the Pentallion. I think'_

She laughed again, this time stronger and more like herself.

Gently he shifted himself and slowly lay down on the lounge, wrapping his arms around Martha and pulling her down on him.

She rested her head on his chest, with an arm across him, with one of her knees across his thighs.

The warmth of her body was soothing his rapid heart rate.

He hadn't made a fool of himself, which allowed him to settle.

Yes, he accepted the fact that it would one day end. But that day, was not now.

And that was all that mattered for the moment.

He shifted a little, letting himself relax.

'_Come with me'_

Martha was silent for a few moments, before shifting a little, her free legs tangling with his.

'_Yes'_

Again he let his eyes slide closed and allowed the warmth of Martha's body so close to his own wash over him, relaxing him and lulling him into sleep.

He was indeed attracted to Martha.

And he was not at all jealous of himself.

The End.


End file.
